Page 119 of Deep Cover

I didn't because I could think of all sorts of horrifying activities he'd think up if he thought I needed medical attention. And even more if he thought I was faking it.

We hiked that day, in low, Las Vegas foothills, then went back to the compound for weights workouts but he skipped the yoga, the meditation and the massage.

I was fine with all of that.

He was distracted over breakfast, reading through documents on his phone and eating absently. After I watched him inhale a second croissant, I thought it would be safe to add sugar to my coffee. If he noticed, he didn't say.

In my real life, a leisurely breakfast had to either include someone to talk to or something to watch or something to read. I never just sat and listened to birds outside the windows. Probably I could have fetched the constitutional law book and gone on studying, but there was a chance this was a time I should just be decorative and think my own thoughts.

That was actually more boring than meditation until he looked up and said abruptly, "How are you at crowd control?" His blue eyes bore into mine.

Living with Cole was making me much more decisive. Where once I would have asked whoever had just said that at least half a dozen questions before responding, mostly in the hope of not looking foolish if I answered a question he or she hadn't asked, now I simply started with information and waited for him to impatiently direct me in the real direction he was heading.

It helped that most of the time this seemed to be the result of a mind even more impatient than mine and not a trap.

"If you're talking about a witness or suspect being transported, there's specific protocol to follow whether or not that person is considered a risk. If you mean at a large event, that's usually handled by security for the venue, though I did some moonlighting on that sort of thing in the beginning of my career."

I'd have gone on, but he interrupted then, like I'd expected him to, and let me know what he was looking for was someone who would be armed and deadly and have his back if he were to have a meeting with a company working illegally in Brazil.

"That doesn't sound hypothetical," I said, and when he just watched me, expressionlessly, I went on to outline the scenario. How many people I'd want on each person being guarded, what kind of weapons, what kind of transportation, when the routes to and from the meeting place would be set and no, what he'd started to suggest would not happen, the meeting would not take place at his hotel. We'd run scenarios beforehand to see what the conditions were like in real life, outside the theoretical. At least one of those dry run scenarios would include the person being protected. That was non-negotiable. It wasn't just that the bodyguards and security team needed to know how to react.

The target did also.

"If I brought you in to cover me at a series of meetings with what might turn out to be cartel but probably won't, what would you need?"

My head examined?But I answered him with requirements for guns, for body armor, for GPS units and backups, for actual hardcopy maps, for more than one bulletproof car, for the dry runs, and for the number of people I'd want on the team and how they were to have been trained. "None of the guard from here, either," I said. When he started to argue, I said, "They can be compromised. They're too close to you." Also, if he handed me a weapon, at least one of the two main guards wasn't going to walk away from the meeting.

He looked at me for a long minute, looking more like Loki than ever, and finally said, "If I armed you, gave you the weapons you're asking for in your outline, what would you do?"

That was an odd question. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir. I'd protect you, since I thought that's what the questions were about."

He waved a hand as if I had missed the point. "If I gave you a gun, who would you shoot?"

Oh. Loyalty test. "Hopefully no one," I said and saw him consider whether I was being smart or honest. He must have settled on the second, because nothing happened other than that long look.

He went back to his reports and I went back to wondering how I could get in touch and stay in regular contact with Tad. Some time later Cole rose from the table, pocketing his phone, and said, "If I gave you the rest of the day to yourself, what would you do with it?"

My heart leapt, because this didn't have the feel of a test. More that he had things to do and wanted to go do them and didn't mind if I entertained myself along the way. The idea of having an entire day to not be messed with, not be someone's property, not be used or trained or taught or be working on kicking my addiction -It was almost good enough to just luxuriate in the time.

"I haven't done any Taekwon-Do in a while," I said. "If I could get on YouTube, I could take some classes in my style." And I held my breath.

He didn't look away from his phone but paused, seeming to consider, then said, "That would be all right. You understand if I find you've been in an email or chat program I'll make you extremely sorry." And then he did look at me, and I shivered. It was an honest reaction and it seemed to please him.

"I'm not looking for email." That was true. I've always preferred text.

But Tad Charles had several YouTube channels. Among others, he did high level black belt workouts on one of them and since he worked out daily, he generally posted daily.

If I commented on his site. As Annix. And asked for a backdoor into some kind of communication about what was happening with the new gangs, it would give me a way to stay current and work on what felt more and more like a problem that was my fault and something I should be able to help solve.

I'd get a good workout in, too.

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